Drugs, Unmarked Paths, and Peace
Let’s start with this: this entry is probably not what you think it’s going to cover. The title is a bit deceiving (imagine that, coming from me). Contrary to some people’s beliefs, Mikey and I did not move to a third-world country. Just last week, I was speaking with someone, and as we ended the call, he said, “Y’all be safe down there in South America.” Before I could stop myself, I replied, “I worry more about your safety in the US than I do ours here.”
So here is what I want to talk about today—simply put, my morning.
Drugs
I got my prescriptions filled today. Most drugs here—even those that are over-the-counter in the old country—are obtained by going through a pharmacist. This includes things like Advil and Tylenol. You walk up, ask for what you need, and they give it to you.
Given that I take eight prescription medications to help manage my bipolar disorder, I’ve learned quite a bit over the last two weeks. To start, you can go to any farmacia to obtain your meds. You are not limited by an insurance company telling you where you can or cannot go.
There are three levels of medication.
White Label drugs can be obtained without a prescription, but with a prescription, you receive a discount. For me, I can get my lithium, lamotrigine, lorazepam (a controlled substance in the States), and gabapentin without a prescription—just walk up to the counter and ask for them in the dosage I need. To receive the discount, the doctor writes the prescription on a white prescription pad (white label).
The next level is Green Label. These medications require a doctor’s prescription. The doctor still writes the prescription on a white pad, but also provides a green slip to include with it. You have to have the green slip in order to hav your medication filled (green label).
The third level is Pink Label. According to my doctor, these are for professional prescriptions. The prescription must have a pink slip to have them filled. I will never need a pink label, since I don’t require my medications in large quantities.
When you walk up to the counter and hand over your prescription, the pharmacist begins filling it immediately; pulling boxs from sliding drawers. Prescriptions come in boxes, and punch out the pills as needed. There is no “It will be ready in 30 minutes to two hours.” It’s quick. Even without insurance (we’re working on that), the cost of the meds is a fraction of what they are in the old country. You should have seen the pharmecist’s face when she said this one is expensive, point to a box. I asked how much. She said for a box of 30 it was just over $30 US dollars. I replied that said in the states ONE of my perscriptions is $400 US dollars. She smiled and said, “I gues $30 is cheap then.” Yep!
That covers the drugs. I am back on my meds, and fingers crossed, back to stability within a week. Some of the meds need time to build back up in my system before they start to estable the desired chemical balances in my brain.
Unmarked Paths
As I was on my ride this morning along the Rambla, I decided that at my turnaround point I wanted to sit on the beach for a bit. As I approached that spot, I started looking for a path that would lead from the Rambla to the beach. I found one and took it. I went up and over a sand dune.
Guess what I discovered? The path to the beach stops at the top of the dune.
Being stubborn—for the first time in my life—I decided not to turn around. I trudged forward only to find drop-offs between me and my desired destination.
I wasn’t going to give up. I lowered my bike, stepped down, and repeated this two more times until I reached sea level. Then I was set to enjoy the beach. Right?
Low Tide
Low tide created another challeng. As the water went out for low tide it created a shallow stream in the sand. Water was rushing to make its way to the ocean. It was moving faster then me in an amusement park. I was not going to cross it on my bike or walk across it. So I walked along it until the stream took a right angle and I was able to make my way to edge of the water.
I wanted to take a moment out of my day to simply stop. I sat, closed my eyes, and took deep breaths for a few minutes. I quieted my mind and didn’t think about what I needed to do or the things that were upsetting me. I just was. I listened to the waves and the birds. I could smell the seawater. I was at peace.
For ten minutes, I simply was—nothing more.
Based on this experience, I have decided that I am going to do this on each of my rides. At the point where I turn back and head home, I will find a place to rest, pay attention only to the sights, sounds, and smells of the moment and embrace the experiences that are in store for me that day. I figure I have the rest of summer (through February) and fall (March, April, May) to practice this ritual before it starts to have a chill in the air.
The thumbnail for this entry comes from the ride today. I saw these cute little houses and had to take a picture. They made me think of what I imagine a small village in Germany may look like.
Thank you for sticking with me to the end.
Be kind to one another, and be kind to yourself.
